


Is It Hot in Here?

by MrsRen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Best Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Muggle AU, Mutual Pining, but the other thinks they aren't interested, established best friends, gratuitous drinking, heat wave in the middle of summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 10:23:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15727476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRen/pseuds/MrsRen
Summary: It takes a heat wave in the middle of summer, a bet, and copious amounts of vodka for one of them to finally make a move.





	Is It Hot in Here?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Dramione Fanfiction Writers 100 Days of Summer Comp.
> 
> Prompts used:
> 
> He watched the droplet of sweat languidly ease its way between her enticing cleavage and licked his lips.
> 
> He set fire to the world around him but never let a flame touch her.
> 
> Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
> 
> Word Count: 8318
> 
> Thanks so much to my beta! (Who I don’t want to name yet because I don’t know if this is anonymous.)

 

 

Hermione stumbled into her shared flat, her fingers holding her heels while she threw them against the sofa. There was another crash as she attempted to make her way to her own bedroom in the dark, but it was useless. She was fucking pissed and could barely put one foot in front of another. Clearly, she had underestimated just how many shots she’d taken when Ron insisted on carrying her up the three flights of iron stairs.

 

The audacity of that prick, she rolled her eyes. Their ten month relationship thrown away, but he still thought they would be falling into his bed for a midnight fumble on drunken nights like this. At the very least she hoped her roommate wouldn’t be home, but the light trickling out from under his door frame debunked that theory as well.

 

She tried to take soft steps down the corridor, her bare feet treading lightly across the carpet.

 

But then she rammed into the wardrobe door that had been _left open_. A scream tore from her mouth. She’d jumped, but what an awful idea that was as she was unable to keep her feet flat on the floor. As she fell, she grabbed onto the door in the dark, jamming her feet against it instead and toppling over halfway inside the closet.

 

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, but she could still see a tiny bit of light as the light switch was flicked.

 

“Granger,” he sighed, but he was holding in his laughter. From the way his voice rumbled, he was rather close to laughing at her rather than scolding her. “How did you ever manage to get up the stairs when you’re this pissed?”

 

She groaned, throwing her arm out for him to pull her back to her feet. She swayed, but his hands settled gently on her shoulders. “Ron carried me up the stairs. I would have rather crawled, but the prat never keeps his hands off of me!”

 

“Right.” Her vision was blurry, but it sounded like his eyes were narrowed in the way that seemed to see right through her. “What did Weasley have to say for himself tonight? Let me guess, he begged you for another chance?”

 

She nodded, throwing her arms around his neck as his arms slid behind the backs of her knees. “He’s not sorry though, is he? Even if I did give him another chance, he would still be jealous. He won’t ever accept that you and I are best friends, or that we’ve never,” she hesitated.

 

“Never what? Dated?” He replied.

 

“He’s never quite believed me when I told him we’d never fucked. Apparently your reputation precedes you.”

 

Draco snorted. “Well, if I had ever shagged you, you most definitely wouldn’t have ended up with him as your boyfriend.”

 

“You’re overly confident. It’s not attractive.” Hermione laid her head on his shoulder, smelling his cologne that had reminded her of safety ever since her parents had died in a car crash the year before the pair met.

 

He shifted her weight and opened her door. Flicking the light on by lifting her foot, he smirked at her giggle. “I’m always attractive, Granger. Stunningly attractive.” Draco dropped her on her bed, the sheets still torn apart from restless sleep the night before.

 

“Oh?” Hermione mocked, crossing her legs and folding her hands across her stomach. “If you’re so attractive, why have I never been interested?”

 

He rolled his eyes. “You’re far too intoxicated for a conversation you won’t remember having tomorrow morning.” Draco turned to walk away, only to be stopped by a soft tug on his shirt. “What is it?”

 

“It was a serious question. I’ve been thinking-what if I am attracted to you, like subconsciously? Maybe that’s why my relationship with Ron failed so utterly miserably.” She looked up at him, her auburn curls in complete disarray around her-which was how he liked her-and soft brown eyes wide as she waited for him to reply.

 

It was difficult to ignore how her cheeks were painted pink and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Still, he gave her an out. “Hermione, your relationship with him failed because he was an insecure prick, and because your sex life was awful.”

 

She gaped at him, clutching at her chest. “What do you know about my sex life,” she mumbled, defeated. “Ron certainly never had a problem.”

 

An eyebrow arched, Draco continued, “Weasley would be pleased with anything that had tits and a nice arse-”

 

“Does that mean you’re implying that I have a nice arse?” She interjected.

 

He talked right over her to her frustration. “And he was your _first_ , Granger. You don’t have a clue what sex is supposed to be like.”

 

If her cheeks had been red before, they were crimson now. “Oh, my God! Just get out!” She bent down to grab one of her trainers, throwing it haphazardly and just barely missed his head. And it had only missed because he ducked! “You’re such a prick, it was a serious question.”

 

“It wasn’t.” He deadpanned. “If that was your idea of a serious question, then you should ask me when you’re sober and I will give you an honest answer.” His fingers curling around the trim winding around her off white colored door, he looked down at her as she rolled onto her side, facing away from him. “And yeah, you’ve got a fantastic arse. Why else would I always open doors for you?”

 

“Oi, get the fuck out.” She snarled and he sniggered when she attempted to get up and shove him out.

 

Granger fell right on her face.

* * *

  
  


As a Malfoy, there had been..certain expectations. Such as training to take company ownership of Malfoy Enterprises one day. Such as agreeing to a marriage to a wealthy, blonde, and utterly dull woman which would help solidify a merger with a rival company. Or perhaps, agreeing with his father’s outdated views, like the opinion that Malfoys shouldn’t associate with anyone who wasn’t wealthy.

 

Which he rejected all of those, but that last one? He rejected that one twice.

 

When Hermione Granger had come across him in Borgin and Burkes, he hadn’t been a kind person. In fact, six years ago he had just been told he had a choice to make: to start preparing for a wedding, or he could say goodbye to his inheritance. After a lifetime of having family values nearly beaten into him, it should have been much harder to say no.

 

Except with this girl, this random stranger, stumbling onto him and quite literally falling over him, it became infinitely more clear.

 

She was everything Lucius Malfoy didn’t like, and for a moment, Draco nearly opened his mouth to fling a slur at her, to point out that if she wanted to get anywhere in life, she shouldn’t be wearing that ratty jumper. That was what he’d been brought up in. Maybe it was the smile on her face, maybe it was the first thing she ever asked him was, “There’s no way you’re a natural blond.”, and maybe, it had been the way she sat with him.

 

It was impossible to forget how she sat there, her back against the wall while he explained that he was meant to be turning in an application for an internship. Hermione listened intently as he detailed how he was supposed to meet with a girl named Astoria Greengrass after leaving, how he was meant to be charming-and that was the easy part, she’d snorted-and how this was supposed to be the rest of his life.

 

A marriage that was a business deal and it wasn’t what he wanted at all.

 

So she had asked him, and it rolled off of her tongue so easily, “Then why would you go?”

 

He had assumed that she would write him off as an entitled bastard for swaying towards the decision of giving away his own happiness for family. To keep his trust fund and his tuition paid for. How was he ever going to go to university without-

 

She’d cut him off, and asked him how he thought everyone else did it without a trust fund to act as a cushion? She was doing it, but only halfway really because technically she had money that others didn’t have. And he’d felt like absolute shit when she bared her soul to tell him that her parents had been killed in a car wreck a year ago.

 

The smile on her face never actually dropped though. He hadn’t had the courage to even ask her name, or get her number, or bloody hell, tell her thank you for putting things into perspective. She’d walked away from him, hobbled actually as she muttered that she would have to go to a hospital _again._

 

It had been a surprise to both of them when he’d been seated in a restaurant with his parents and the dreaded Greengrass girl. Blowing off the brunch hadn’t quite done the trick. It was when Hermione paused in front of them to take their order, that her eyes widened. Her eyes flicked to Astoria before trying to ask what she could get them to eat.

 

Lucius was a prick, the kind of horrible human being that asked Granger, “Could we get another waitress? I’d prefer to be served by someone who looks like they could afford to set foot in this establishment.”

 

And she’d known exactly why after hearing all about this man. Tears had welled up in her eyes and before he could control himself, Draco was on his feet, grabbing her wrist. It was immediately after he’d tugged her behind him that he had taken a pitcher of ice water and dumped it over his father’s head.

 

And just like that, that life was gone.

 

He might have been able to reconcile with his father, but he’d instead led Hermione to the man who looked like her manager. Explained what had happened, and left with her.

 

It was partly why he couldn’t be as brave as her, couldn’t tell her the truth about how he felt at all. He thought it to be cowardly, and for a woman who could blossom in adversity, he wasn’t sure he would ever be the type of man who deserved her. He would set fire to the world if he ever saw anyone disrespect her like his father had, but leaning back in his chair at his desk, he knew he’d have never let the flames touch her.

 

The textbook that was flipped open in front of him, the damned text that he had already read three times, was irritating him more than anything else. _She_ was in the other room, probably already passed out while still wearing her dress and what he hoped to God, were not garters. Except of course they were because she aimed to make Ron Weasley eat his heart out for their particularly bitter breakup.

 

Chewing on the cap of his pen, he admitted that he was happy when the relationship ended. There was nothing quite like watching the person you’d give anything to have, be with someone else. Draco could always inform you that it was worse when said person was your flatmate, and said person produced loud moans during sex to stroke their partners ego.

 

His stomach clenched.

 

It would be another long night. Cracking his door open quietly, he snuck down the corridor and into the kitchen. Draco grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and ibuprofen, leaving it on her bedside table before retreating to his own room.

  


* * *

 

Hermione was certain it was a miracle she even remembered the night before, what she’d asked her best friend just because her tongue was easily loosened by booze. Yet she did and as she swung her legs over the side of her bed, she was positive he wouldn’t mention it.

 

Despite her intelligence, she wasn’t sure how to go about this. She’d realized that her feelings for him weren’t entirely platonic a few months ago, immediately after Hermione had been devastated to realize that Ginny had slept with him. It hadn’t gone over well - jealousy was an ugly thing between friends, but clearly Hermione had repressed how she felt long enough.

 

Ginny also apologised, but she didn’t have to. It wasn’t as if she planned for Hermione to walk in while she bounced on Draco’s cock.

 

Hermione shoved the memory away quickly. Grabbing the pills from the night stand, she swallowed them with a quick drink before peeling her dress off. It was clinging to her through sweat, and it reeked of vodka. If she remembered correctly, she’d mistakenly dumped it down her dress where it trickled between her breasts. Fantastic, not only was her dress drenched in vodka, her knickers were as well.

 

Throwing her clothes into the corner, Hermione pulled some joggers from her closet, throwing a jumper over her torso. She left the joggers halfway folded on the bed. Malfoy would have already left for work and there was no one else in the flat. Slipping on a pair of white cotton knickers she made her way to the kitchen.

 

Where Draco was sitting at the table and she managed a squeak. “Am I overdressed?” He asked with a smirk.

 

Grumbling, she made her way past him anyways and opened the cabinet where her cereal was. “Did you put my cereal on the top shelf?”

 

“I might have.” He called back. “Just climb up there like you always do.”

 

“And flash you my arse?” She asked, sarcasm dripping from her voice. Hermione spun on her heel, putting her hands on her hips. “I think not. You just want a free show.”

 

His shut his text book, stood and reached her in five long strides. She tried not to focus on the way his jeans fit him, particularly in the groin. Walking in on him with Ginny had ruined quite a bit for her and she was reduced to trying to play it off if he ever caught her. “I’d offer to pay you, but I feel like that might make you angrier.” He spun her to face the ivory cabinets before gripping her waist and lifting her onto the counter.

 

Hermione's cheeks pooled with heat as she grabbed the box as quickly as she could manage. Once her feet were firmly on the ground she grabbed a bowl and opened the fridge. “Malfoy,” she gritted her teeth. “Did I, or did I not tell you to grab milk yesterday when you left work?”

 

There was silence as a guilty look came over his face before she snapped at him.

 

“It’s right beside Flourish and Blotts, Draco! Literally. Right. There.”

 

“Why are you yelling over a carton of milk?” He was laughing, the sound low and deep and her stomach clenched.

 

“I have a hangover and I love cereal. It was your bloody turn to get everything on the list!” Hermione snapped.

 

“Jesus, I’ll go buy you some milk. Don’t get your knickers in a -”

 

“You don’t know anything about my knickers, so don’t talk about them.” Hermione crossed her arms over her chest when his gaze dropped. Her nipples were stiff against the air of their drafty flat. If the earth could just open up and swallow her whole.

 

“Well, they’re white, and they were just _in my face,_ ” he began, and she grabbed her cereal, retreating to her room before he could continue.

  
  


That Saturday, she spent the day lounging on the sofa while watching television. She’d put her joggers on after her humiliating run in with Draco that morning. It would be another eight hours before he was home from Flourish and Blotts.

 

He hated that job, but he’d never left it. It was something to help him pay rent until he was finally, _finally_ out of medical school. Hermione had graduated previously, her major having been English and creative writing. She was pleased to say that she spent her time at a job that never truly felt like work, and it was the type of work she was all too happy to bring home with her.

 

As an editor, she’d been offered a position in three publishing houses, but she’d picked the Daily Prophet. The career was less demanding than Draco’s would ever be. From nine to five she sat behind a desk, which she had decorated to show her individuality, behind a computer while editing manuscripts. She worked Monday through Friday, though she liked to take her work home with her, and she was off by five o'clock.

 

At the moment her laptop was closed on the coffee table, but she didn’t have the energy. She always cleared her mind to edit anything so she could focus properly. All of her thoughts kept going back to Malfoy, how it was awful to be his friend now, now that she knew she wanted more.

 

Her phone vibrated in her lap, and a text from Draco came across the screen. _Two women fought over the newest release by Rita Skeeter.They ripped the damn thing in half._

 

Hermione snorted. _Awful, isn’t it?_

 

_Yes, was this your shoddy editing skills, or is she just this awful?_

 

 _The only editing that could have fixed that book would have been rewriting it. I hated reading through it._ All too true, she loathed when the next erotic fix for lonely housewives came across her desk. _I don’t even think it was accurate._

 

_I don’t know, Granger. I read the page it fell open on and it was an accurate detail of a women while her partner ate her cunt._

 

Hermione dropped her phone. Not that he’d never used foul language around her before, but this caused heat to pool in her belly. Though she feared admitting it, even to herself, it put certain images into her mind. Incredibly clear fantasies of what it would be like for her to be the woman with her legs spread and, well, Draco to be the one between her thighs. “Get ahold of yourself, Granger.” She muttered, grabbing her phone and typing a reply.

 

_As if, she writes as if the woman is panting, or whimpering, or moaning every other minute. No one makes those sounds unless they’re faking to stroke the man’s ego._

 

_Is that what you did with Weasel? I distinctly recall you screaming in what I assume was an orgasm. This is just more proof that you have no idea what sex is supposed to feel like._

 

Hermione blinked, her cheeks hot. _So I did over exaggerate my responses. Girls pretend to make those sounds because they know it’s what men hear in porn._ Satisfied that she had won that argument, she pressed send.

 

_No, no, no, Granger. That’s not true at all._

 

_You must have been with someone who was faking then._

 

_I assure you I was not._

 

_I understand it must be a blow to your pride to admit you aren’t as god like as you thought._

 

_Have you ever had an orgasm, Hermione? Did Weasley even get that right?_

 

Her breathing was shallow as she looked at her screen, debating whether or not she would dignify that with a response at all. She might have faked with Ron, a small detail she refused to ever let him learn of. Of course she’d had one though, she knew her own body at the least.

 

 _I’ll take your silence as a no._ Draco’s message came through, her phone vibrating in her hand.

 

Hermione turned her phone off, tossing it onto the table where it slid into the floor. Laying back down on the couch, she continued watching television like she had before Malfoy had put images in her head that she didn’t want.

 

* * *

  


By the time Draco did come home, he was struggling with an arms worth of groceries. “Why is it so bloody hot?” His jacket was already sticking to him as Hermione came into the kitchen, fanning herself with a folded piece of paper. “Christ, where are your pants now?”

 

“The air conditioning went out.” She grumbled. “I don’t care for your sensibilities. It’s hot and I refuse to burn up in my own clothes. I suggest you do the same unless you want to suffer from heat stroke.” In her other hand, she held a bottle of booze by the neck.

 

“It’s barely six o clock, have you been drinking?”

 

“Spare me the lecture, will you? If I’m intoxicated, I don’t care so much about the heat. I called our landlord, but he says it will be Monday at the earliest before a repairman can come.” Hermione took another drink of the vodka in her hand, grimacing before setting it on the granite counter. “You forgot the milk again.”

 

He glared at her. “I didn’t forget, they were out.”

 

She shrugged. “It’s fine. How was work? Did you have any more fights break out over Skeeter’s new book?”

 

He rummaged through the bags, pulling out boxes and putting them in the cupboards. “No fights, but only because I’m required to be pleasant and professional. At least two women yelled at me today because we sold out, and informed me that I should enroll myself in primary school once more so I could learn to count. Since I’m apparently in charge of counting how many desperate housewives there are in London that can’t get a good shag.”

 

Hermione snorted. “I’m sure they could have found another bookstore that had that rubbish in stock.”

 

He peeled his jacket off, and rolled up his sleeves. “Hand me that,” Draco took the bottle from her outstretched hand, taking a larger drink than he should have. It burned going down his throat. “This heat is ridiculous. I’ll rent a room for us to stay in until it’s fixed.”

 

She shook her head. “It’s fine. Don’t waste your money on that, Draco. I’ve been lounging in the bathtub all afternoon.”

 

He chuckled. “Yes, well, we can’t exactly do that at the same time, now can we?”

 

“Why not?” Hermione blurted, crossing her legs, mistakenly flashing her arse. “It’s boiling, Malfoy. I have a swim suit, it’s not like being in water is going to cause us to shag.” She sounded so sure of herself, but he doubted his self control. “I’ll help you put everything away. The tub is big enough that we could sit on different sides anyway.”

 

Hermione crouched down, grabbing the lunch meat, cheese, and eggs, putting them into the refrigerator as quickly as possible. After grabbing the last two bags, storing the tea and another box of cereal, she bundled all of the bags into one and hung it on a hook.

 

“If it makes you uncomfortable I’m not going to force you. If you want to rent a room for yourself, that’s fine.” Hermione told him, her hips swaying slowly back and forth as she made her way to her room.

 

His mouth dried as her shirt rose higher, with her grabbing the hem and pulling it over her head before she even reached her bedroom. Though it wasn’t a surprise, Hermione was a different person when she drank too much. Still seeing her bare breasts bouncing as she tore off her top, it was actually his he noticed, as if she were angry.

 

Her nipples stiffening against the air sent a jolt straight to his cock.

 

He wasn’t going to survive the night, he decided. Draco entered his room, unbuttoning his shirt frantically, kicking his shoes off, and kicking his trousers off. His erection was only semi hard at the moment, and he yanked a pair of swim trunks from one of the drawers of his mahogany dresser.

 

Hermione met him in the bathroom, her hand gripping the side of the jacuzzi style tub as she leaned over and turned the faucet. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t find my swimsuit.”

 

He swallowed the lump in his throat, wanting nothing more than to pin her against the wall and drag his tongue over every inch of her bared skin. Her knickers were black, cotton, and even though they were simple he wanted nothing more than to drag them off of her with his teeth. “Right.” His voice was thick.

 

Hermione bent over, swinging her hair over so she could wrap it into a tight bun on top of her head. “My knickers and bra cover the same amount of skin as a bikini would anyway.” She told him, plucking a hair tie from her wrist and wrapping it around her bundled hair. “Did you grab that bottle?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Did you grab something to drink after because I don’t think I can keep drinking it straight.”

 

He chuckled, leaning against the countertop. “Yes, I did. Unlike you I can think ahead.”

 

She stood up, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at him. “Shut up, Malfoy. Speaking of, I have something to tell you. Though you might want to take a few drinks because it won’t make you happy.” Hermione stepped into the tub carefully before sinking down into the cold water. “Fuck, it’s freezing, but I know if I get out I’ll be sweating.”

 

Except she _was_ still sweating. He watched the droplet of sweat languidly ease its way between her enticing cleavage and licked his lips  The bra, no matter how modest it should have seemed, clung to her as water moved against her, causing it to cling to her sinfully. Wiping his feet on the mat in front of the ivory tub, he stepped inside, sitting across from her. “What’s this you need to tell me? If it’s that important, I’ll listen to it with a clear head first.”

 

“Well,” she nibbled her bottom lip, looking away from him. “Your father came by today while you were gone. About an hour before you would have been home and I didn’t feel comfortable telling him when you would be home.”

 

His shoulders stiffened as he looked at her, looking for any sort of clue that his bastard of a father might have mistreated her before he’d been home. “And what,” the word was sharp on his tongue, accusatory. “Did my father have to say?”

 

“He told me that you haven’t returned his calls, or his letters, and I told him that of course you haven’t. Because Lucius is an arse that you wanted to distance yourself from, but Draco, I think you need to call him. Your mother is sick.”

 

“Was he hateful to you?” Draco opted to take another long drink, grabbing the bottle, and not bothering with the orange juice at all. He could count on one hand the amount of times Lucius had met Hermione after the incident at her old job, and not one of them had gone well. Between the fake charm, and gestures meant to be seen as familial, there were dozens of backhanded comments.

 

“He’s never been pleasant, but this really isn’t about how he treated me, or how he made a jab at the Daily Prophet’s decline of who they chose to employ. You need -”

 

The water crashed against her as he was on his knees and towering over her, water streaming down his bare chest. “He told you that?” He seethed.

 

Chocolate eyes were slightly dimmer as she looked away. “I know how he is, and it doesn’t bother me. If he were to suddenly be kind to me, that’s when I would be afraid. Your mother is sick, Draco, really sick. Lucius said that it would be a mistake to put off visiting her.” Hermione finished, sinking lower into the water as Draco sat back.

 

“Did he explain anything else?”

 

Her eyes watered. “Not really, he tried to invite himself in to wait for you, but I wouldn’t let him in the door. That was when he told me Narcissa was diagnosed with cancer of the liver. It’s terminal.”

 

It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him, but he managed an, “Oh.” Draco looked away from her. “Then there’s nothing they can do.” It was more for himself than for her. “It’s okay, don’t cry.”

 

“I just,” she hiccupped. “I feel like it’s my fault you’ve barely seen her for years. I feel so guilty that there’s so much time you’ve lost.”

 

“I could have gone to see her at any time, Granger. She chose to stick to his outdated views. I love my mother dearly, but I don’t regret anything I’ve done. I do think that we need to move onto another topic, something lighter.” If anything could lift his awful mood, it would be her.

 

Hermione took another drink, reaching for the orange juice and merely sliding against the tub. “Goddammit. Did you have to set it so far away?”

 

“I can reach it.” He smirked.

 

“You have longer arms than me, prick.” Deciding to just leave the foul taste in her mouth, she returned to her original spot. “Pick the subject then.”

 

“Have you ever had an orgasm?” He asked her, his chest constricting at the shocked expression on her face. Her cheeks were a lovely pink shade as she bit down on her lower lip. “Come on, Granger. Since when are you shy?”

 

“Of course I’ve had a bloody orgasm.” She muttered, glaring at him. “Why would you even ask that? Because of Skeeter’s book?”

 

“Because I know,” another drink. “That you, Hermione Granger, faked her orgasms with Ronald Weasley. We share a wall, remember? Which would mean you’ve made yourself come.”

 

She gulped. “That’s just a guess. You have no idea who I’ve been with, Malfoy.”

 

He shook his head, brushing his hair out of his face. “You see, that’s the thing, I do know. Just like I know he was the one you gave your virginity too. A mistake if you ask me, he probably had no bloody idea how to fuck.”

 

“And just who would you have recommended me to sleep with?” She hissed.

 

Draco was still taking drinks. He was sure he’d have to be completely pissed to be bold enough to make a move towards her that wasn’t platonic. With a casual shrug he answer her, “I don’t know, maybe someone who would have made you see that yes, fucking can be like what’s in those books. Those moans you mentioned? The whimpers? The screaming? All well within the realm of possibility, but you had a shitty lover who didn’t know how fuck you in any way besides missionary, much less have the skills to eat your cunt, and leave you screaming.”

 

Her breathing was shallow at the end of what felt like a scolding. “You have no way to tell that we only ever used one position.” She mumbled, lacing her hands together below the water.

 

“I do, actually. Ginny told me how you wanted to try new things and he would never agree to it. It’s part of the reason I told you that you weren’t losing anything when it didn’t work out.”

 

“Despite that, I’m still correct. People don’t sound like _that._ ”

 

“Like what?” He asked her.

 

“I don’t know! It just doesn’t...it doesn’t feel so good that I’m going to beg to be fucked harder?” She trailed off, it sounding more like a question than a statement.

 

“I’ll take that bet.” Draco told her, as drunk as he needed to be to drum up any sense of bravery.

 

“I - what?”

 

“You’re saying no one could make you beg, right?” A nod from her. “I’m betting you’re wrong.” Draco rested his arms on the sides of the tub, waiting for her to realize just what he was insinuating. “I’m betting it just takes the right person.”

 

“Then are you suggesting we go out? I’m not about to let you watch a random person try to prove your point.”

 

Oh, poor thing. She had no idea. “Hermione, are you so drunk that you don’t know what I'm saying, or do you just think it would never happen?” She stared at him. “I’m not suggesting you find a one night stand in a pub. I’m saying that _I am right here._ ”

 

Her eyes widened, her pupils dilating, but he saw how she responded to his words. Her nipples stiffening against the cotton of her bra, the way she rubbed her thighs together. “You? Why would you suggest that? Are you that desperate to always prove me wrong?”

 

“Really?” He deadpanned. “I’m desperate,” he winced, it wasn’t the right word. “To spread your legs and fuck you.”

 

“Are you shitting me right now? Draco, I swear to fucking God-”

 

“I’m not lying.” He told her.

 

“If this is some sort of prank to humiliate me.”

 

“I want you fucking naked and under me, on top of me. I don’t particularly give a fuck which one comes first because all of them are going to happen.” He growled.

 

Hermione rose out of the water, clumsily reaching for him and Draco pulled her into him. His arms slipped around her waist as she kissed him hard, moving to straddle his waist. Drops of water slid down her back as his hand settled on the bottom of her back. His other hand rested at the nape of her neck as her lips were slanted against his.

 

Her nails dug into his shoulders as she clung to him, grinding her hips against him.

 

His tongue slid against her bottom lip before biting it gently, growing harder at her weak moan. “I thought you said you didn’t make those noises.” Draco told her, dropping his arm from her waist and his hand sliding down her stomach. “Did you not just tell me that, sweet girl?”

 

Her head fell forward as he rubbed her clit slowly. “I never have!” She protested, her voice airy as nails raked against his back. Let her leave marks. “Fuck,” she shuddered against him as he moved her knickers to the side and touched her, skin to skin, for the first time. “I - what brought this on?”

 

He looked up at her, from where he leaned against the side of the tub. Her hair was beginning to come undone, and her eyes were glossy, as if she were out of her own head. “Nothing brought this on, it’s always been like this for me.”

 

“Oh, God.” She tried to be quiet as one digit slid into her, curling against her inner walls. “What the fuck does that mean, that it’s always been like this?”

 

“For someone so goddamn brilliant, you are without a doubt,” he learned she liked a bit of pain mixed with pleasure when he mistakenly dug his nails into her back as another finger entered her. “The most oblivious person I have ever met.”

 

“Could you stop insulting me, and tell me what the fuck,” the word was wrenched from her as his fingers moved faster. “That is supposed to mean?”

 

“I wanted you.” He muttered, kissing across her collarbone. “I’ve wanted you for years, but I never thought I would be,”

 

“If you tell me you didn’t think you were enough, I will smack you.” She growled, framing his face in her hands and kissing him roughly, biting his bottom lip and pulling his hair. “Oh, fucking God.” She whimpered as the pad of his thumb pressed against her clit. “We could have been doing this all along, but no. You wanted to be _noble._ Do you have any idea what it was like to walk in on you fucking my best friend?”

 

“Do you have any idea what it’s like knowing you were feet away getting fucked into the mattress by someone who didn’t care about your pleasure at all?” He shot back.

 

Hermione glared, reaching behind her and unclasping her bra. With a cheeky smile on her face and one eyebrow arched, she let her arms down, the straps sliding down before she tossed it onto the floor. She was rewarded when his eyes darkened with lust, and the way his tongue darted out to dampen his lips. “He thought he was doing a good job.” She defended.

 

“He should have known.” He argued, leaning forward.

 

However she was going to argue, it was gone as he took one nipple into his mouth, cupping her other breast, thumb stroking across the center. His tongue was firm as it flicked against her. Hermione’s head lolled to the side as she groaned, a low guttural sigh that she had definitely never heard from herself before.

 

This would be a bet that she would be too happy to lose.

 

“You should have made your own wants clear to me six months ago when it hit me how much I didn’t like seeing you with anyone that wasn’t me!”

 

“Ginny?” He asked her.

 

“Yes, what are you doing?” Hermione found herself sitting on her bum once more with him standing and stepping out of the tub.

 

“Get that look off of your face, I’m not leaving you. We need a bed for this.” He told her, smirking at her confused face. “Grab the fan from your bedroom and I’ll grab mine. I doubt the heat is what you’ll be focused on.”

 

“I mean, wouldn’t it be easier for us to just be here? With me on top of you?” Her eyebrows furrowed as he chuckled.

 

“Sure, you could ride me while we were in the tub, but that’s not what we’re doing.” Shaking her head, she stood, and stepped out carefully so she wouldn’t slip on the linoleum. “Foreplay, Granger, it’s more than fingering you.” Eyes wide, she nodded, squeaking when he picked her up instead of letting her walk. “I don’t trust you not to fall and give yourself a head injury. And I’d really rather continue this night.”

 

‘Right, because out of all of the things I could be bad at, it’s walking.” She rolled her eyes, dropping from his arms and walking towards her bedroom, swaying slightly.

 

Once she wasn’t looking, Draco sprinted into his bedroom gathering all of the papers on his desk, stacking them, and stashing them in one of the drawers. He closed his laptop, shoving it to the side, and grabbed the fan to put on top of his desk. Noticing he had tracked water over his carpet.

 

Hermione pushed the door open, her own fan in her grip before she handed it to him. With a bright smile on her face, she jumped onto his bed backwards, crossing her legs and waiting for him to join her. His cock was throbbing with the way her breasts bounced. “This isn’t only happening because you’re upset about your mother, is it?” She whispered as the bed dipped beneath his knees. “I want this, but if this is for comfort, I couldn’t.”

 

He kissed her softly, a simple brush of his lips against her own. “No,” he sighed.

 

“Then I believe you, I just wanted to hear you say it.”

 

He hovered over her, kissing down her neck, and moving to hold her hands over her head. She gasped as his tongue slid against her neck, and when he bit down where her neck met her shoulder. Draco said nothing to her, just continued as he had earlier, his tongue tracing lazy circles over her skin.

 

She arched into him as he licked between her breasts and down her stomach. Knowing where he was going didn’t help her nerves at all as she wiggled beneath him. “Draco, I want you to get something too. It isn’t all about me.”

 

“We’ll have to agree to disagree, but I’ll let you do what you want.” He said. He watched as Hermione crawled out from under him, sliding her knickers down her legs while he removed his underwear.

 

“Lay back.” Hermione told him, her voice soft, shy. “Close your eyes, Draco.”

 

He had thought she was going to climb over him, but he was wrong. “Fucking,” he groaned just as her lips wrapped around the tip of his cock. “Hermione,” her small hand wrapped around his cock, sliding slowly against him as she tested what he would like.

 

Nothing would have prepared him for the sight of her kneeling between his legs, and watching his throbbing cock sliding into her mouth. Rolling her tongue against him, she took more of him into her mouth inch by inch until her hand fell away and her lips met the base.

 

Draco’s groan was strangled at best, completely incoherent as she continued what had to be the slowest blowjob of his life. Yet if she moaned one more time, her lips vibrating while they were wrapped around him, he was positive he was going to come down her throat.

 

“Come here,” he urged her. “I’m loathe to admit it, but I’ll fill that pretty mouth of yours if you don’t stop.”

 

Taking a long lick up the underside of his erection she muttered, “I fail to see how that would be a problem.”

 

She would be the death of him. “It’s your turn.” Hermione crawled up beside him, laughing as he pushed her onto her back.

 

“It’s not fair.” She insisted. “Because you’re going to make me come, and you still haven’t.” Hermione crossed her arms below her breasts, which only made her cleavage more enticing.

 

“I made you a bet. You’re going to make all the sounds you told me you couldn’t. Hermione, make no mistake. You are going to beg me to fuck you into this mattress before I slam my cock into you. Do you understand that?”

 

She tilted her chin up. “I understand that you say that, but you’ll see that I have my own doubts.” Hermione stated, but the confidence in her voice did not reach her eyes.

 

“You do?” Draco mocked, kneeling in front of her. “Spread your legs for me, Hermione.” Her legs were trembling as she did, her feet flat on the sheets as she watched him. “Did Weasley ever tell you how pretty your cunt is?”

 

She shook her head.

 

“You’re swollen because you need me so badly.” His finger slid through her slick folds. “Do you need me, Hermione?”

 

“I want you, Draco. Not need.” She reiterated. Though her body language told a different story as she flung her hands out, clutching the sheets as he took one slow lick against her clit, teasing her as two fingers slid into her. “Oh,” she moaned, writhing against the sheets.

 

She tasted fucking sublime, and he couldn’t help but to drag his tongue through her folds before returning to her clit, flicking it with his tongue. She shrieked once when his teeth gently tugged on it, sucking greedily.

  


His fingers worked quick inside of her, sliding out slowly before thrusting forward quickly and curling inside of her. “Oh, just fuck me.” She whimpered, her resolve thin. “Just fucking slam your fat cock inside of me, and do it hard.” Hermione suggested, but it wasn’t begging, so he told her absolutely not.

 

“Draco!” She yelled. “This is ridiculous, why do I-” She’d had enough as his fingers curved one last time and he stroked her clit once more. It wasn’t quite the scream he knew she could manage, but still one that had been stolen from her and it was his _name_.

 

“You told me you wouldn’t scream.” He smirked, looking up at her.

 

“You told me you wouldn’t fuck me.” She whined, edging on desperation. “Oh, my God, please.” She whimpered as his fingers worked a slow assault on her pussy. “Draco,”

 

“Do you want me to fuck you, Hermione?” He said softly. “To stretch your tight cunt with my cock? I want nothing more than to feel you wrapped around me.”

 

She panted, “Then do it. Fuck it, I need you. I was bloody wrong, and if you can make me scream from eating me out, I _need_ to know-”

 

Draco pulled her down the bed by her ankles, pulling her to sit up so he could cut her off with a rough kiss, reaching up to pull her hair down so he could feel it wrapped around his fingers. “Are you begging me?”

 

“Fuck me,” she muttered, conceding. “Yes, I’m begging.”

 

“Tell me what you’re begging for.” He added, pinching her right nipple. “Details are very important, love.”

 

“You are such a bastard.” Hermione whispered, stroking his cock between them. “You told me that it didn’t matter what position because they would all happen. I’m begging for you to bend me over on your bed, fuck me from behind until I’m sore tomorrow, and fucking pull my hair. Do you think that would be possible?” She spat the last bit sarcastically.

 

“All you ever had to do was ask me. You won’t leave this bed tomorrow. It’s clear lessons are in order. You like to learn, don’t you?”

 

She whimpered, laying her head against his shoulder. “I do, but as long as it involves having your cock in my mouth again.”

  


Draco pulled her up, guiding her by her hips, settling her back against his chest. Reaching around her, he squeezed her tits, only for her to rub her arse against his cock. Her curves were soft against him as she reached backwards to wrap her arms around his neck.

 

“Stop teasing,” Hermione whined.

 

Pressing his palm against the middle of her back, he pushed her down on her hands and knees. Draco ran his hands over her arse, fingers sliding into her dripping cunt just for a moment. He leaned over, yanking one of the drawers of the nightstand out, and grabbed a foil packet, ripping it with his teeth. “I’m going to fuck you so goddamn hard.” He muttered, rolling the condom onto his cock.

 

“Please.” Her sweet whimper was delicious.

 

Gripping her hips, he positioned himself near her slit before sliding into her, using his grip on her hips to make her impale herself on his cock. His groan was choked as he felt her cunt squeeze him. “Fuck,” he murmured, well past being aware the it was almost everything he said. “You’re so tight for me, princess.”

 

She gasped, pushing herself backwards, bracing herself on her elbows. “Oh, _my God._ ” She squealed, just as his fingers latched onto her hair. “Fuck fuck, fuuck.” He pounded into her, feeling her tremble below him. “I can’t, I can’t handle this, Jesus, fuck, Draco.” She was almost incoherent, her sentences breaking off with each stroke that bottomed out inside of her.

 

“You can take it.” Wanting her closer, he guided her by her hair, grabbing her shoulders to pull her up while he thrust into her. “You will fucking take it.” He growled, his arm resting across her collarbones. “Because you’d let me fuck you however I wanted, wouldn’t you?” She shrieked as he dropped his arm, the weight gone, and as he rubbed her clit. “ _Wouldn’t you?”_ He repeated.

 

“Yes.” She sobbed, her head falling to his shoulder. “Draco, but I’m so fucking sensitive. I don’t think I can come again.”

 

“Begging for my cock, hard and fast, and now you’re begging for me to be gentle.” He mused, slowing his fingers. “You’ll come again, over my cock once more. Then I’ll wring every last orgasm I can from your body. You’ll be shaking, and all of our neighbors will know what a filthy little girl you are for me.” That stroke was particularly hard, just to prove a point as she shrieked his name. “You’re going to be goddamn addicted to my cock, and that’s what I want.”

 

“Then make me come!” She screamed. “I need you to make me,”

 

“I’ll fucking get you there.” He growled, listening to her loud, still barely coherent moans.

 

She whimpered of how her clit would be so sore into his neck.

 

The second orgasm was more powerful than the first, ripping through her body and Hermione sobbed in relief as his fingers slowed. “Oh, fuck.” He withdrew from her, and she just laid on the bed, sweat covering her body, and her hair completely fucked. “Draco?”

 

“Mmm?” He’d never felt quite so satiated in his life. She was everything he’d imagined whilst wanking off during the shower, and more. He threw the filled condom into the wastebin, climbing back into bed beside her. He wanted nothing more than to lean back down and pull her on top of him again. What he’d really prefer was to eat her out with her on top of him like he had wanted to the first time.

 

“I definitely want to do that again.” She blurted, and he laughed. “Will we do that again?”

 

“Considering you won’t be doing it with anybody else, I would assume so unless you’ve decided on a life of celibacy.”

 

“After that?” She asked. “No, but who says we’re exclusive?” Hermione winked at him.

 

“We might have done all of this backwards, moving in together and then shagging, but I think it’s clear what I want.” He rested on his elbow, the air from the fan hitting his back. “And that’s you.”

 

She grinned, scooting closer to twine her fingers in his hair and kiss him. “While we’re doing things backwards, do you think we could go to that twenty four hour restaurant down the street? I’m _starving._ ”

 

“I’m reluctant to let you out of my bed when you look like you do.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Get dressed and meet me in the hallway. There’s an alley on the way if you really can’t control yourself.”

 

He could have controlled himself, but where would be the fun in that? It was why when they passed that alley, he pulled her into the shadows, kneeled before her and ate her cunt until her knees buckled and he put her legs over his shoulders.

 

She had to bite her hand to stay quiet. 

  



End file.
